


And Sisyphus Wept

by Ruuger



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Apocalypse, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/pseuds/Ruuger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another slayer, another apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Sisyphus Wept

Spike leaned his back to the wall and looked up at the night sky like he often did on nights like this when the smog cleared for a moment and the stars were given a brief chance to shine again. As he searched his pockets for his cigarettes, he tried to remember what the sky had looked when he had been young. There were only few constellations he could recognise anymore, but he wasn't sure if this was because he had forgotten the rest, or because the sky itself was different now.

The was the sound of heavy boots hitting the roof of the building, followed by a soft rain of soot and dust, and finally the girl herself landed in a crouch on the ground next to him.

"Took you long enough."

She let out a dismissive huff of breath and tossed him the scythe so that she could straighten her clothes. "Scared of having to wait here alone, were ya?"

Spike sometimes wondered if the attitude came as a mandatory addition to the slayer-package. Certainly every slayer he'd known during his long years in the Council and before had come equipped with it. He gave the girl a sideway glance. She had shaved her head since the last he'd seen her - fashion statement or a concession to practicality, he wasn't sure - the baldness of her skull emphasising the sharp shadows of her cheekbones. They were all running on fumes, with little sleep and barely any food, but that was the apocalypse for you. He'd lived through enough of them to know the signs.

"No, but I was starting to think that you'd gotten cold feet."

"I had a dream about you again."

He tossed the scythe back to her, trying to act casual. "Yeah? Was it a good one?"

She was quiet for a few seconds, and just for a moment he could see the tired and scared 15-year-old girl that she usually hid behind the rough-and-tumble mask.

"You loved her, didn't you? The slayer that I keep seeing."

"It's gonna be the end of the world in two days and you want to hear about some old flame of mine?" He tried to laugh, but the sound stuck in his throat. He would have thought that after all these years - all these decades and centuries - that he would eventually forget about _her_ , but it still hurt to be reminded.

He must have zoned off, because the girl nudged him with the with the scythe as if herding a stubborn animal.

"C'mon, Spike. We have to do this before sunrise."

\-------

They found their way to a small shop at the end of the alley and ducked in, their weapons ready in case of an ambush.

Inside the shop was crowded with random merchandise, scavenged items and magical artifacts. Looking around, Spike could feel the weight of his years, many of the ancient artifacts on the shelves being things that stuffy old Rupert would have found too modern back in the day. There was a small bell on the counter and Spike picked it up and rang it.

At the sound of the bell the curtains at the back of the shop opened, revealing a short bald man in dark brown robe. He stepped forwards to greet them but then stopped, reaching for the stake lying on the shelves besides him.

"What's that thing doing here?" he asked, his eyes flickering from Spike to the slayer and back.

She rolled her eyes at Spike and then raised her hands. "Relax. He's got a soul. He's totally neutered."

The man took a hesitant step forwards, his eyes still trained at Spike.

"My brother was killed by a vampire, so forgive me for being cautious."

He gave Spike another suspicious look but then, after a brief glance at the girl, put down the stake and crouched down to rummage a large box stashed under the counter.

"I was told that you would come," he said, his voice muffled. "I have some weapons that can help you, but what is most important is to make sure that the portal is not opened. It will be the end of everything if this happens."

Spike felt an odd sense of deja vu at his words, but he brushed it aside, keeping his eye on the man in case it was a trap after all. The witches had been certain that the man could help them, but Spike had been betrayed often enough times over the years to have learned to be careful.

When the man finally stood up again, he was holding a small pouch with something heavy and round inside it. He gave it to the girl.

"This should be of some help, but I have also prepared a spell to make it more difficult for them to open the portal. It has been done only once before, and at a great cost, but it did delay the creature long enough to give the slayer some time to gather her forces."

He lead them to the small back room, to a banged-up cauldron suspended above a electric fire that appeared to be held together by string and tape. He conjured another small pouch from the folds of his robe and tipped the contents into the cauldron, then knelt in front of the fire and closed his eyes, starting to chant quietly.

Spike looked at the girl. She shrugged, and leaned to the wall, tossing the bag carelessly in the air as she made herself comfortable. Spike was just about to settle by the wall next to her when the man suddenly looked up, tilting his head as he fixed his eyes on Spike.

"Of course," he said. "It all comes in circles." Then he smiled. "This time, I think I'll let you see."

"Wh-" Spike started, but was interrupted when he suddenly felt the girl's hand on his arm.

She was looking into the bag the monk had given her, her fingers tracing the shape of the dimly-glowing orb inside. Finally she looked up, her eyes again not the eyes of a slayer but those of a scared little girl. Her fingers wrapped tighter around his bicep.

"Look, Spike, if anything happens to me, you'll take care of her, right?"

Spike frowned, reluctantly looking away from the monk. "What?"

"My sister. Promise you'll take care of her."

"But you don't have-"

This time, he felt it, the world changing around him like a rubberband snapping into shape. He whipped his head around just in time to see the monk hold out a hand, a glowing ball of green energy hovering above it for a few seconds before it vanished.

Spike could feel strength drain from his legs and he fell to the ground as the barrier of the spell hit him, almost taking the girl with him as he went down.

"Spike?"

His ears were still ringing, and he had to blink several times before he could focus on the the girl. She standing above him, with her hand on his shoulder and a worried look on her face.

She wasn't Buffy, would never be her, but a long time ago he'd made a promise to a lady and he wasn't going to break it now.

He smiled, taking her hand.

"'Till the end of the world."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Spike/Dawn/Buffy, 1000 years

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pandora’s Forgotten Hope (What’s Another End of Days? Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384117) by [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness)




End file.
